


To Be Continued

by akingman



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Abuse, Angst, F/F, F/M, Happy Ending maybe, High School AU, M/M, Multi, No Mafia, Other, Slow Burn, andrew is still in foster care, god theres so much angst, im sorry, mention of csa, mention of sexual assault, neil still lives with demons, you know the usual
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-21
Updated: 2019-08-21
Packaged: 2020-09-23 00:03:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20330728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/akingman/pseuds/akingman
Summary: A high school slice of life. No mafia, no murder. Haha, unless?





	1. One

**Author's Note:**

> Someone had to scooby-dooby-doo it.

Andrew thinks about the stale cereal in plastic cups and omelettes that turned cold. It wasn't food that he could pull apart without dirtying himself. Rather, it wasn't that it made him feel dirty, but that he was already filthy to begin with. He stares at the food and contemplates how he'll regret not eating it later.

No one finds him during lunch because he gets there early. There's a woman standing by the cafeteria entrance who checks yellow slips. Next to the cafeteria there is a set of double doors. These doors are three feet to freedom but Andrew never runs. He sits by one of the side walls facing the cafeteria. If someone were to look into glass box they'd look down and see him. No one ever looks or gets passed the hall guard. He often wonders what it would be like to walk out. Either to head home into what he knows best or straight through into oncoming traffic. He isn't sure which one would hurt more.

He tries to take smaller bites out of the granola. He'll be hungry through the rest of the day but he always is. Food is scarce at home and even when the cabinets are full nothing is his. Every reach or grab during night or day met with scrutinizing gazes. He retreats to his room.

He thinks school is better than home because it feels like he's taking up more space in a good way. At home there is a silence, a deafening anxiety that says you're unwanted and you eat too much and we don't want you here. There are unspoken rules and hands that linger too long or stares that speak too friendly.

There's homework but he doesn't mind it. He's able to keep knowledge and spit it back out on paper. His hands hurt from writing with a pencil but he thinks the dents forming on the inside of his fingers is worth it. In English his teachers call him passive aggressive. He aces the tests that ask facts but score lower on personal essays. The English teacher chides him for scribbling on the corner of the pages. He doesn't feel bad when the teacher yells at the new kid for the same thing. Andrew looks over to see the new kid nodding at him, as if he were thinking the same thing. _This class sucks_.

Andrew hadn't noticed the new kid before but now he found him wherever he went. He was a moving figure in the background of high school life. He drifted through the halls with his head down and books pressed to his chest as if to hide his body. The kid never looked up and didn't say much in their one shared class. Andrew wanted to know who he was and where he came from. When asked, another student shrugged.

Perplexing.

In English Andrew doodles more and looks over his shoulder to see New Kid doing the same. That day he wore a long turtleneck sweater but Andrew knew when he saw it. A faint red mark that looked like it was turning blue formed right on his neck where the turtleneck began. It moved every time he swallowed and Andrew registered that the New Kid was staring back at him. It was an  unfriendly  expression based on the warning sneer curling his lip. Andrew stuck out his tongue and faced the front.

Andrew wasn't the only one harboring a sad secret.

XXX

During lunch Andrew skirted away from his usual hiding spot and found that it had been a mistake. He'd searched the cafeteria and found no one that looked like someone he was looking for. No auburn hair. No blue eyes. No turtleneck. When he tried to leave the teacher stopped him.

"The teacher is waiting for me," he said. The name tag on her shirt said Abigail and he glared at the block letters.

"What classroom?" She asked.

Andrew stared at her. "Grey."

The woman seemed to think on his answer before sighing and pulling out a paper and pen from her pocket. "Go on now," she said handing him the paper after she signed it. "And don't let me catch you again."

Andrew ignored her and stuffed the paper in his pocket. He went down the hall and then took a sharp right. Past the school entrance he went up the two flights of stairs that twisted in blocks. He made his way down the second floor hallway towards the English department.

Inside the room behind the closed door was a redhead with his head on his crossed arms, fast asleep. Andrew didn't feel the need to knock. He made his entrance clear by scraping his feet against the floor and slamming the door. The teacher looked up as she was gathering her things and seemed surprised to see Andrew at all. Whatever she was going to say died in her throat when she saw the look Andrew sent her.

"Don't let anyone know you're alone," she said before scurrying out the door. To meet with other teachers, he presumed. The door shut behind her and Andrew took a look at the new kid. Or Neil, the teacher said once.

Neil who didn't ask questions or answer them in class, who was always yelled at for drawing on his papers. He showed up early to class and participated only to stay out of trouble.

Neil who peaked Andrew's interest even when he didn't want him to.

He was asleep, or so Andrew thought.

  


Andrew sat on the other side of the room right across from Neil's still form. The desks shaped like a horse-shoe and the projector and chalkboard at the front. The teacher's desk was on one side of the room. The other made up of a row of windows that showed the road next to the building. It was busy and lead one way to three fast food joints.

"Can't you see I'm sleeping," Neil said, lifting his head to glare at Andrew.

Andrew sat with the chair tipped back and both legs on the desk. He chewed the inside of his cheek in thought and said nothing. When Neil put his head back down Andrew took out his lunch bag and didn't miss the way Neil's head twitched.

"Hungry?" Andrew asked, nothing short of mocking.

Neil looked up again and glowered. After a silence Andrew heard Neil's stomach growl. Andrew threw the bag over the room and watched Neil's face contort into different ways. All which annoyed Andrew to no end.

"Never seen food before?"

"Isn't this yours?"

"I'm not hungry. Eat it or throw it away," he replied and waved a hand, "Not my problem."

Andrew let his head fall back. He never slept in the presence of others but Neil didn't need to know that. He closed his eyes and waited. Neil began digging into the brown paper. A triangular cut sandwich and green wrapped granola bar.

"Gross," Andrew heard the latter say, but then he heard chewing and a quiet sigh. "Thank you."

"Shut up," Andrew huffed.


	2. Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Andrew discovers a few things about Neil, and Neil cleans Andrew's wounds.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly I don't know where this is going and I only have a few pages up and written. Honestly it's more crack and bullshit than something as serious as it seems. Come along for the ride and find out of this dies, ig. Thanks for reading!

It becomes a routine. Andrew scouts the halls for a familiar tuft of hair only to feel resentful for looking at all. He tells himself  why bother and  how stupid to assume to calm his racing thoughts. And then he sees him. Rounding the corner with two heavy books pulled tight to his chest as he accepts the wave of students as his path. He fits in and doesn't at the same time. He keeps his eyes down and walks at an average pace so he doesn't seem panicked or too slow in thought. What makes him stand out is that he's trying hard to not stand out at all. 

He always wears the same five outfits consisting of heavy sweatshirts and jeans. His shoes ripped on the edges or borderline torn apart. He holds a black school bag tucked to his side as if he's hiding some valuable object. 

Andrew thinks he's an enigma. A secret code he wants to crack but Andrew knows what happens when the mystery gets solved. He gets bored. He moves on because nothing can hold his attention for long. 

One day Andrew decides to keep the interest going. He tells himself it's because he's bored. He's also planning on making his current foster family turn into a new one. He's getting tired of the way his foster sister's eyes linger on him. He'll move into a home far away from here, and forget that everyone, including Neil, existed. 

He walks behind Neil in the hallway one day moving from one class to the other and analyzes Neil from behind. His head is always dipped down with his eyes on the floor and it must do wonders on his posture. Whenever someone bumps into Neil he's always tugging his bag closer to his hip. 

Curious. 

Andrew gets lost in thought to the point that he doesn't realize Neil stopped. His chest is flush against Neil's back. It takes a breathless moment to remember he's  at school, it's okay before he's staring into blue eyes. They're cold. 

"What's your problem?" Neil asks, causing a disruption in the flow of student bodies. Some move around them while others gesture with hands at how  obnoxious it is for them to hold up the sea of students. 

"I'm not the one with a problem," Andrew replied, because he's trying to figure out why he'd zone out in the first place. 

"Then why are you following me?"

Andrew stared at him. "Following you? In a school? Where every class is five feet apart?" Andrew said with a knowing grin pulling at the corner of his lips. 

"You know what I mean," Neil gritted out. After he realized Andrew wouldn't budge he sighed and turned to keep walking. 

It seemed after a moment he realized Andrew wasn't going to get off his tail. 

"You don't even have class down here," Neil says pointing at the science wing. It was true. Andrew despised science most of all and avoided any classes for the year. He knocked most of the required ones out freshman year. 

"And how would you know that?" 

"I do. Skipping class, then?" 

"Care to join me, Nate?"

Neil looked affronted and squinted at Andrew, "Neil." 

"Right, Nath-" and Andrew stopped when Neil did. It seemed Neil did not like that name at all. Based on the way his eyes blew out in a look of fear that Andrew saw in his own reflection. 

"Neil," Andrew confirmed and watched Neil school his expression back to a normal one. 

That name was off limits. 

"Fuck off," Neil said not too kindly. Andrew watched Neil walk back into the wave of strangers and disappear. 

XXX 

Neil showed up three or four days out of the week. Andrew often skipped class to wander around and get into shit he shouldn't. He smoked in the bathroom and hid his cigarettes above a ceiling tile and sometimes wandered the halls looking for something to do, waiting for someone, anyone to pop out and say "I see you!". He never feels seen. 

When Neil does show up to school Andrew follows him like a detective. He made a mental note of his schedule and looked for him in the morning for homeroom. Or at the end of the day when buses appeared at the sidewalk. Andrew usually only sees him throughout the day in the hallways. In the hallways Andrew follows close behind him. Neil sees him but never comments, at least, not when he figured out Andrew didn't care. 

They only shared English but Andrew made it a habit to stop by sometimes for lunch. He made sure to change up the meal once in a while. There was a childish fear that Neil would one day reject it and all progress Andrew made would crumble. Of course, he himself didn't know what he was doing in the first place. This was against every rule he's made for himself. Don't get too close and don't get too interested. Though Andrew found it hard to believe that Neil would turn down any prospect of food. 

It was worth the wrist slaps and and raised voices.

Andrew knew it was coming close to a time that he'd get away but he got too comfortable too soon. One day he couldn't make it to school. After his foster mother got with him she'd spit on his battered body before leaving the house. Andrew felt he couldn't move at all. He stared at the white ceiling of a bedroom he knew not to call his own. And he felt every punch and every drag of a long fingernail on his skin. Somehow it hurt less than usual. Familiar. 

He wasn't going to make it into school today and he didn't think to call in sick. He didn't think at all. It was hours of not closing his eyes but reaching complete surrender that he heard the doorbell ring. It was unusual considering their house was far from others and they rarely had visitors as it was. He hoped it was a cop coming to tell him that they'd tracked down his long lost mother.

He winced getting out of bed and covered himself in a knitted blanket. He moved to the front door where the person on the other side rang three more times. 

"One minute," Andrew bit out. 

He opened the door and hissed at the person on the other side. 

"Look here, a lost dog. The school is that way, Dumbo." Andrew said and clenched his teeth when he tasted blood on his tongue. 

Neil only stared back at him. 

"Andrew," he started but stopped. He looked Andrew over, frowning, and came to a conclusion. 

"You never call out and we started a group project in English. I left early to give you the papers but," Neil kept frowning. 

Andrew stared at him and found strength in gripping the door so tight it hurt. His knuckles were white as snow and he fought the urge to punch Neil in the mouth. He was strong. He could deal with this, so why was Neil looking at him as if he failed? 

"How'd you find me?"

"Office door left open and empty." Neil said as if it were simple.

"Run along, now. I'll pick it up tomorrow."

"Are you even going to be able to go to school?"

"That is none of your concern," Andrew said with grit and wagged his fingers at Neil. He winced and pulled his hand to his chest and avoided doubling over in pain. "Get lost." 

"I can help with that," Neil said, in which Andrew assumed he meant  I have experience . Andrew didn't want his pity though. 

"Go. Away." 

"Let me help. I'll go away I swear, let me help. You might get an infection." Neil replied and eyed the open wound by Andrew's lip. 

"You're an infection," Andrew said but moved aside to let Neil in. 

"And your kind words are the cure," Neil rolled his eyes and let himself in. He looked around the home as Andrew closed the door behind him. 

Having Neil in the house was an odd thing. There were pictures of a close family. A father, a mother, and a daughter. All with Andrew nowhere to be scene. There were personal items scattered around but even Neil could see the fault in it. Everything was too clean and organized. It smelled like a hospital, something Neil had seen the inside and outside for many years. 

Andrew shrugged and let the blanket fall from his shoulders and felt more than saw Neil's eyes take them in. 

"Get to it Doc," Andrew said and pointed to the direction of the bathroom. 

The family often filled the cabinets with first aid stuff to cover their tracks. Sometimes they were generous enough to throw it at Andrew when they finished. It was the nicest thing they'd ever done. It was also the most human thing they could muster. 

Neil hurried to the bathroom and made a mess as he gathered all the supplies. 

"Alcohol?" Neil asked, and followed Andrew into his bedroom. It looked more like a guest room than anything, uninviting and impersonal. Under his bed Andrew pulled out a bottle. 

Andrew sat in his bed and stared into a void as Neil got on his knees and got to work. Neil worked on Andrew's injuries while Andrew was off in his own world. As if Neil wasn't there at all. It was practice for the both of them. 

"Not going to ask?" Andrew piped up after a lifetime silence. 

"It's not my place to ask."

"Not interesting enough?" 

"If you wanted to talk about it you should have said so." 

Andrew scoffed and turned his head. 

"Don't think this makes us buddies or something. This is a one time thing, and I mean, this is nothing," Andrew said and Neil nodded at his warning. 

"You're a good listener." 

"A learned trait," Neil said and continued working in silence. He gathered the supplies and handed Andrew the bottle. He watched Andrew take a swig and grimaced. 

"How often?" Neil asked. 

"Too." 

Neil nodded, then, "Wanna hang out?" 

Andrew looked at the clock and figured he'd have time to kill now that he wasn't in school for the day. The family wouldn't be home for a few hours. 

"If it'll kill me." 

Neil rolled his eyes but watched Andrew fetch a thin plaid shirt out of a drawer. He lead Andrew out to the door. 

"Where to?" Andrew asked. 

Neil turned to him as he opened the door and shrugged. "An adventure." 

Andrew decided then that he'd follow Neil anywhere.


End file.
